The club throbbed with life.
Thick bass rolled through the room, mixing with sax notes and laughter. Fluorescent lights splashed red and gold across velvet booths, while expensive sneakers tapped against the polished floor. Behind the bar, bottles glittered like diamonds.
Gina Moretti wiped the sweat off her forehead and kept pouring drinks. Sleeves rolled, jeans faded, hair tied back. She moved fast, sharp, untouchable.
"Ginny!" A drunk guy leaned over the counter, breath hot with tequila. "How 'bout a kiss with that whiskey, sweetheart?"
She didn't flinch. Her grip tightened on the glass. Then, with a smile sharp enough to cut:
"How 'bout I pour it down your pants instead?"
The guy blinked, confused, then laughed…big, stupid, and loud. "I like 'em feisty!"
The slap cracked through the club like a gunshot.
Silence. Heads turned. Music skipped a beat.
Before he could react, Gina hooked his ankle with her boot and sent him crashing to the floor. She didn't wait, pinned him down with one knee and pressed her pocketknife against his throat.
"Touch me again," she whispered, "and I'll make sure you never touch anything."
"GINA!"
Benny, the bar owner, waddled through the crowd, sweat darkening his polo shirt.
She slid the knife back into her boot and stood. The drunk stumbled off, shoved by a few amused regulars.
Benny's face was crimson. "I said no more fights!"
"He grabbed me," Gina shot back.
"You could've let security handle it."
"I am security."
The crowd laughed. Benny didn't.
"One more stunt, and you're out. Got it?"
She bit back a retort and returned to mixing drinks. She needed this job, the money, the tips, the distraction. Anything to keep from thinking about Tommy. Her chest tightened. Don't think about him. Not now. The door burst open.
A gust of cold night air swept in, and with it, Matteo DeLuca. Matty wasn't the kind of man you ignored. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black like he owned the city. His shirt was smeared with blood.
Dark messy curls. Eyes colder than gunmetal.
The music faltered. Conversations died. Everyone knows the name.
Matty DeLuca. Mob prince. Trouble wrapped in money and muscle.He scanned the room, jaw tight.
"Where's Benny?"
Benny froze mid-count, eyes wide. "M-Mr. DeLuca…"
"Back room. Now."
He dragged Benny toward the VIP door without waiting for a reply.
Gina kept working but her ears sharpened. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, except she totally did.
"…someone tipped 'em off," Matty's voice was low, dangerous. "Sullivan's guys were waiting. My shipment's gone."
Benny stammered, terrified. "I swear, I don't know anything!"
Something heavy slammed. Probably Matty's fist. Gina flinched but didn't look up.
The back door creaked open again, and suddenly Matty's eyes were on her.
Sharp. Unblinking. Curious.
At first, he seemed confused, mistaking her for one of the guys. Then their gazes locked, and realization flickered. A slow smirk crept across his face.
"Didn't know you hired women, Benny."
"She ain't just staff," Benny muttered. "She's the only reason this place stays open."
Gina bristled. "You done staring?"
Matty tilted his head, amused. "Not every day a woman talks to me like that."
"Maybe you're not used to people with spines." For a second, his smirk deepened. Then the front door slammed open again.
"DELUCA!"
Three men stormed in, armed and angry. Sullivan's crew.
"You're dead, Matty!" one snarled.
Guns came out.
The club exploded into chaos.
Patrons screamed, chairs overturned, bottles shattered.
Gina ducked behind the bar as shots tore through the room.
Matty slid in beside her, breath hot, gun in hand. "You know this place?"
She glared at him. "What's it to you?"
"You got a way out?"
"Maybe."
"Then you're with me," he growled, low and deadly. "Or we both die here."
Her heart thudded in her chest. Against her better judgment, she nodded. "Follow me."
They slipped through the back hallway, dodging shouts and gunfire, until they stumbled into the alley. Sirens wailed in the distance.
Before she could breathe, Matty shoved her against the wall, pinning her wrists.
"You're Tommy Moretti's sister."
The world tilted.
Her voice came out shaky. "How do you…?"
He leaned closer, cold fury in his voice.
"Your dead brother owed me money. He lied. He betrayed me."
Her stomach dropped. "I…I didn't know…"
"You do now." His grip tightened.
"And guess what? Everyone in that club thinks you're my girl. Sullivan's men saw it. That makes you leverage. That makes you mine."
"You're insane," she hissed, struggling.
"No," Matty whispered, almost calm. "I'm giving you a choice. Marry me… or bury him twice."
Her breath caught, fear and rage tangled in her chest.Before she could answer, headlights sliced into the alley.
Dark SUVs rolled in, engines growling. DeLuca's men.
Matty turned his head slowly, gun raised, smirk returning.
"Looks like you're deciding real fast, sweetheart."